The human and the divine in the first stasimon of Sophocles’ Antigone

• I    would like to contribute to determining a fundamental aspect of the first stasi-mon which, as far as I know, has not yet been sufficiently highlighted in the secondary literature on the Antigone . The first stasimon has the second antistrophe (365-75) as the most decisive moment with regard to the interpretation of its overall meaning,³ and in my view the second antistrophe, if read in its connection with the whole of the Antigone ,⁴ points in advance to a conflict between two inadequate forms of relationship between the human and the divine as the reason for the catastrophe that befalls the city of Thebes at the end of the play. This means that I consider the second antistrophe a microcosm of the whole play which, in my understanding, deals with a conflict between two inadequate forms of relationship between the human and the divine.⁵

• 2.    The basic structure of the stasimon

  One of the main topics of the first stasimon, evident in the first three stanzas (33264), is the origin of civilization and what made it possible. The stasimon evokes, therefore, a series of other texts with which it has this thematic affinity, such as the myth told by Protagoras in the Platonic dialogue of the same name (Pl. Prt. 320c3-2d6).⁸ Unlike the myth in Plato’s dialogue, it does not have a clear chronological

Commentators on the Antigone maintain that the play has to do with a conflict between Creon and Antigone, but only one of the antagonists, namely Antigone, truly represents the divine,⁶ and in this sense the conflict presented in Sophocles’ play is seen as a conflict between a merely human pole and a divine one. Moreover, the first stasimon – whose second antistrophe ascribes the cause of the city’s downfall to the boldness resulting from the violation of the laws of the land in their interconnection with divine justice (368-71) – is usually interpreted as having only one of the antagonists expressly in view, either Antigone or Creon.⁷

In this article, I will try to present a view of the first stasimon and – albeit in less detail and only insofar as my reading of the first stasimon requires it – of Sophocles’ Antigone distinct from these general tendencies in Sophoclean studies. First (sections 2-3), I will try to consider the overall structure and meaning of the first stasi-mon, in particular the key role that the second antistrophe plays in it. Then (section 4), I will try to show how the first stasimon draws attention to a crucial aspect of the play, that of the essential imbrication between the human and the divine planes, evident in the way in which the second antistrophe establishes the relationship between the laws of the land and the justice of the gods (368-9). Finally (section 5), I will try to demonstrate that the first stasimon, especially the second antistrophe, does not refer to just one of the antagonists but to both simultaneously. Considering the events in the play, it is evident that Creon and Antigone are – in the terms of the second antistrophe – those whose intelligence leads them to evil (365-7), those who do not respect the laws of the land in their connection with divine justice (368-70) and are deprived of the city because of their boldness (3701). In connection with this last point, I will conclude the paper with a brief reflection on the forms of relationship between the first stasimon and the Antigone (section 6).

intention.9 The focus of its first three stanzas lies instead in the systematic description of how man came to dominate the various spheres of nature. What is indicated here is how man is able to dominate the sea (334-7), the goddess Earth (337-41), and the other animals (342-52); how he is capable of developing speech, thought, and propensity for social life (353-6); and how he could escape the cold, rain storms (356-8), and grave diseases (363-4).10 One thus gets the impression that the chorus feel very optimistic and confident in man’s ability to dominate the environment around him and overcome almost all difficulties that present themselves to him: man is “all-resourceful” (360: παντοπόρος), “he meets nothing in the future without resource” (360-1: ἄπορος ἐπ’ οὐδὲν ἔρχεται | τὸ μέλλον); “[s]kilful beyond hope is the contrivance of his art” (365-6: σοφόν τι τὸ μηχανόεν | τέχνας ὑπὲρ ἐλπίδ’ ἔχων). When read separately from the content and tone of the second antistrophe (365-75), the first three stanzas may be interpreted as a joyful ode to man’s achievements.11 Lines 361-2 point to the only thing that he is not able to master: “only from Hades shall he apply no means of flight” (Ἅιδα μόνον | φεῦξιν οὐκ ἐπάξεται),12 and the following indication that “he has contrived escape from desperate maladies” (363-4: νόσων δ’ ἀμηχάνων φυγὰς | ξυμπέφρασθαι) suggests that in many cases man had the ability to temporarily escape even from death itself.13

Despite the use of δεινόν in a negative sense not long before the start of the first stasimon (323),14 lines 332-3 – which occur at the very beginning of the stasimon and are supposed to set the tone for the whole song15 – can be interpreted as having an overall positive meaning. “Many things are formidable”, the chorus say, “and none more formidable than man” (332-3: πολλὰ τὰ δεινὰ κοὐδὲν ἀν- | θρώπου δεινότερον πέλει).16 Until the second antistrophe – and strictly from the perspective for alarm but maintains that ultimately the chorus are expressing their admiration for his achievements. This also applies to the connection between 323 and 332-3 (see below, n. 16).

• ¹⁵    According to C. Utzinger (2003), they work as a sort of “title” (30). See also H. Gundert (1976) 24.

• ¹⁶    Δεινόν is arguably one of the most ambiguous terms in the ancient Greek language (G. Ronnet [1967] 103; G. A. Staley [1985] 563, 564, where he even calls it “a Protean word”). It consists in a verbal adjective derived from words denoting fear such as δείδω (“to fear”), δέος (“a reason for being afraid”), and δεῖμα (“an object of fear”), which indicates that its primary meaning is “fearful”, “terrible”, or “dangerous” (J. O’Brien [1975-6] 140; C. Utzinger [2003] 30; D. Cairns [2016] 59-60). In Homer it refers to someone with authority and is applicable to heroes and gods, in which case it points to fear associated with respect (for the phrase δεινός τ’ αἰδοῖος [“respectability”], see Il. 3.172, Od. 8.22, 14.234; G. Crane [1989] 104 n. 4; C. Utzinger [2003] 30). It later acquires the sense of someone “capable”, “skilful”, or “clever”, first attested in Hdt. 5.23.2 and frequently expressed by the construction δεινός + infinitive, in particular within a rhetorical context (δεινός + λέγειν [“someone skilful in the art of speaking”]; E. Schlesinger [1936-7] 62; H. Gundert [1976] 24; E. M. Craik [1978] 197-8 n. 6; C. Utzinger [2003] 30). When it occurs at the beginning of the first stasimon, it already involves this multiplicity of meanings ranging from “fearful” to “respectful” to “skilful” (J. C. Kamerbeek [1978] 82: “in the use of δεινός here the whole gamut of meaning of the word is to be perceived: fearful, awful, dangerous; powerful, skilful; wonderful, strange”; A. Brown [1987] 155; M. Griffith [1999] 185). Δεινόν appears twice in 332-3, an emphasis through repetition that lends it great importance in the framework of the ode (R. F. Goheen [1951] 53). The chorus express themselves according to the priamel tradition, thus highlighting that man is δεινότατον (on the highlighting function of the priamel and how the first stasimon is related to its literary tradition, see M. J. Carvalho [2019] 112-17). Despite being a comparative, δεινότερον has the value of a superlative because of the double negation in the litotes construction of 333 (C. Utzinger [2003] 30). The chorus convey the idea that man is δεινότατον but, due to the equivocality of the term, it is not clear what this means. The cultural and literary traditions the stasimon belongs to add further difficulties in this respect. The allusion to Aesch. Cho. 585-6 in 332-3 (P. Friedländer [1934] 58-9; G. Ronnet [1967] 103; G. Crane [1989] 105; D. Cairns [2014] 7-9) and, in addition, the linguistic and semantical affinities between πολλὰ τὰ δεινά in 332 and the stock phrase πολλὰ καὶ δεινά for expressing “the terrible things that someone has done or suffered” (G. Crane [1989] 105 n. 8) suggest that δεινόν may have a negative meaning associated with fear and danger (C. Utzinger [2003] 31). On the other hand, a positive meaning of the term may be perceived, arising not only from the celebratory tone of 334-64 but also from a contrast

of the first stasimon – these lines can generally be understood as pointing to man as a being whose activity in the world brings most advantageous results for himself. However, the second antistrophe changes the whole picture. This happens mainly because a decisive shift takes place as regards the sphere of reality described and the evaluation criterion of the effects of man’s action upon the world and himself. The predominant topic of man’s control over nature is put aside, and the criterion for evaluating man’s powers is no longer his effectiveness in dominating the natural elements. The context is now that of social life within the city, and man’s actions are evaluated according to a moral and religious criterion, which is centred on his relationship to his fellow citizens and the gods.17 This shift is clear from the chorus’ with the negative view of man that seems to be serving as a cultural backdrop (on the contrast between δεινότερον in 333 and ἀκιδνότερον [“more helpless”] in Hom. Od. 18.130, see G. A. Staley [1985] 562-3). E. Schlesinger (1936-7) 60 and R. Bodéüs (1984) 271-2, 275 maintain that the δεινότης portrayed in the stasimon is ethically indifferent as in Arist. Eth. Nic. 1144a23-8 (similarly S. Benardete [1999] 40, 42; C. Utzinger [2003] 31 n. 80). It remains the most widely accepted view that the multiple meanings of the term are simultaneously effective (an extreme version of this can be found in T. C. W. Oudemans and A. P. M. H. Lardinois [1987] 129-30). I agree that δεινόν involves the multiple, sometimes contradictory meanings referred to above, but they are not all simultaneously effective, at least not always. Depending on the moment, one or more of its meaning components may prevail over the others. The context should decide (R. F. Goheen [1951] 141 n. 1) and a change of context may result in a different relation of forces between the meaning components of the term. It seems to me that the description of man’s achievements in 334-64 makes 3323 retrospectively appear in a positive light (C. Utzinger [2003] 31), something that, as we shall see, completely changes in the second antistrophe. The power of this description also suspends, at least temporarily, the effects of 323 on the meaning of 332-3. The semantic complexity of δεινόν raises difficulties at the level of translation too, where one of its meaning components tends to be emphasized while, according to T. C. W. Oudemans and A. P. M. H. Lardinois (1987) 129, its ambiguity should be respected in its entirety. H. Lloyd-Jones’ translation as “formidable” covers both the positive and negative aspects of the term. H. Gundert (1976) 28 argues that both aspects of δεινόν are effectively rendered by the German term ungeheuer (“monstrous”), a translation going back to Hölderlin’s second version of 1804 (F. Hölderlin [2019] 331). I choose not to adopt a single translation, as it is decisive to emphasize the most prominent aspect(s) at each moment during the reading of the ode.

• ¹⁷    See H. Gundert (1976) 26-7; E. v. N. Ditmars (1992) 48; M.-C. Leclerc (1994) 79; C. Utz-inger (2003) 27-8, 63, 74. Some scholars point to aspects that make the changes resulting from the content of the second antistrophe appear less dramatic. J. O’Brien (1975-6) indicates that ἀνεμόεν φρόνημα in 353-5 means “moral insight” (139 n. 3, 150) and ἀστυνόμους ὀργάς in 355-6 is a “phrase that connotes the fully human disposition and social impulse drawing people into communal life” (139 n. 3). This last aspect is also stressed by C. Utz-

  use of categories such as good and evil (367), their reference to law and justice (36870) and the city’s possible downfall (370-1), as well as their condemnation of bold behaviour (371) and wish to protect the household from the presence of evil men (372-5).

• 3.    Reading backwards

But despite these significant changes, a fundamental unity underlies the first stasimon as a whole. Throughout the stasimon – in its different contexts and with its different evaluation criteria – man’s faculties are always in the spotlight. On the one hand, in the context of man’s efforts to dominate nature and according to the evaluation criterion of effectiveness in such efforts, they have an overall positive value: they enable man to effectively control the natural elements and become a most admirable living being. On the other hand, within the context of political life and following the evaluation criterion of respect for his fellow citizens and piety towards the gods, man’s powers have an ambiguous value: they can lead him either to good or evil (367) and, respectively, make him either great in the city or citiless (370). With the second antistrophe, therefore, the opening lines of the stasimon (332-3), even if read strictly within its framework, begin to appear in their ambiguity: man – his powers – is δεινότατον not only in the sense that he is “the most admirable” living being in terms of resourcefulness, but also in the sense that he is – morally and religiously speaking – “the most frightening” or “the most dangerous” being of all.18

To understand the structure and meaning of the stasimon more clearly, two sets of questions should now be answered. First: What kind of powers are here at stake? And are they several powers or different instances of the same fundamental one? Second: Does their ambiguous value have to do only with their effectiveness in taming the natural elements on the one hand and their dangerousness when acting within the political realm on the other? Or is there something more to it? It is evident at various moments in the stasimon that the powers in question are all relative to human intelligence. In the first three stanzas, man dominates nature by means of his ingenuity (347: περιφραδής, 348: μηχαναῖς, 353-5: ἀνεμόεν | φρόνημα, 360: παντοπόρος, 364: ξυμπέφρασται), and in the second antistrophe, he acts within inger (2003) 32, who argues that the latter phrase involves the existence of the fully developed polis at stake in the second antistrophe. However, none of these aspects invalidates the idea that the moral and religious dimension is not at the centre of the chorus’ concerns in the first three stanzas and only becomes prominent in the second antistrophe.

the city through his moral and religious insight (365-6: σοφόν τι τὸ μηχανόεν | τέχνας, 373: φρονῶν). The chorus do not seem to differentiate between a purely technical form of intelligence and a purely moral and religious one. On the contrary, the participial clause beginning the second antistrophe, regardless of how it is grammatically interpreted,19 points out that the power of intelligence enabling man to conquer nature may lead him either to good or evil: σοφόν τι τὸ μηχανόεν | τέχνας ὑπὲρ ἐλπίδ’ ἔχων | τοτὲ μὲν κακόν, ἄλλοτ’ ἐπ’ ἐσθλὸν ἕρπει (365-7: “Skilful beyond hope is the contrivance of his art, and he advances sometimes to evil, at other times to good”).20 In other words, the underlying unity of the whole stasimon is man’s intelligence, and it is this unity that enables the ambiguousness of the opening lines to show through and acquire a concrete meaning. The same fundamental power of man, namely his intelligence, is simultaneously the most admirable and the most frightening of all things. It goes without saying that, because man is here defined by his intelligence, the ambiguousness of the latter amounts to the inherent ambiguousness of his being.

Man’s ambiguousness, however, is a bit more complex than I have indicated so far, notably because his moral and religious insight is itself ambiguous: within the political realm, “he advances sometimes to evil, at other times to good” (367: τοτὲ μὲν κακόν, ἄλλοτ’ ἐπ’ ἐσθλὸν ἕρπει). This means, as I shall consider more closely, that his ambiguousness is in fact twofold. As we have seen, he is, on the one hand, enormously effective when it comes to dominate nature, but, on the other, he may be highly ineffective in terms of preserving his status in the city and the city itself, which depends on the moral and religious instantiation of his intelligence: “When he applies the laws of the earth and the justice the gods have sworn to uphold he is high in the city; outcast from the city is he with whom the ignoble consorts because of his recklessness” (368-71: νόμους παρείρων χθονὸς | θεῶν τ’ ἔνορκον δίκαν | ὑψίπολις· ἄπολις ὅτῳ τὸ μὴ καλὸν | ξύνεστι τόλμας χάριν).21 Man’s ambiguousness therefore has to do, first of all, with the contrast between his effectiveness when confronting nature and the risk of ineffectiveness as regards the preservation of the polis and its grandeur. However, man shows his ambiguousness also on a moral and religious level. He is admirable if he can preserve the city but dangerous and frightening if he is not able to do this. That is to say, he bears an ambiguous value also by virtue of a contrast between the effectiveness and the ineffectiveness of his intelligence as regards life in the polis. This point allows for a better understanding of man’s complex ambiguousness as defined in the first stasimon. If we take into account the two levels of their ambiguousness, man and his intelligence are δεινότατα because they are “superlatively admirable” – superlatively effective – in their confrontation with nature as described in the first three stanzas and, at the same time, either “superlatively admirable” or “superlatively dangerous and frightening” – either superlatively effective or superlatively ineffective – within the moral and religious framework of the polis as presented in the second antistrophe.

So far I have conducted a unidirectional interpretation of the first stasimon, by following the sequence of the text and how its meaning progressively unfolds. I will now try to interpret it backwards, in order to identify a few decisive effects of the content of the second antistrophe on the meaning of the first three stanzas.22 Just as in the myth of Plato’s Protagoras (322c1-d5), so also in the first stasimon the foundation of the polis seems to correspond to the highest stage of the civilizational process, and accordingly the way in which man behaves in the political context may best testify to the superiority of his intelligence vis-à-vis nature and the other mortal living beings.23 Because it focuses on man’s life in the polis and the two fundamental modes of his moral-religious behaviour – to pursue good or evil (367) and to behave piously or boldly (368-71) – the second antistrophe is the key moment in the stasimon. Indeed, the ultimate meaning of the latter as a whole – and a fortiori that of the first three stanzas – depends on whether or not man behaves justly and piously within the polis. But in addition to the parallel with the Protagoras, the action of the Antigone itself shows that the second antistrophe plays the most decisive role in the overall meaning of the stasimon and in the way the latter communicates with the rest of the drama.24 As with most Greek tragedies, the events in the Antigone take place within the context of the polis and – as we shall see better in sections 4-5 – have to do with the alternative between the two fundamental modes of human behaviour referred to in the second antistrophe.25

Let us take a closer look at how the meaning of the first three stanzas is determined by the content of the second antistrophe, that is, by the moral and religious alternative presented in the latter. Man’s domination over nature through his intelligence, as described in the first three stanzas, represents an essential part of the realization of the civilizational process, in other terms, of the process by which man, in order to guarantee his survival in the face of the hostility of the natural elements, overcomes the power of the latter and develops, by his own means, a world distinct from the natural one and a way of life different from that of other living beings.26 But the preservation of the polis is what can give meaning to such an essential part of the aforementioned process. On the one hand, human domination over nature is justified if the polis is preserved through good and moderate action. On the other, it will be unjustified if political harmony is destroyed by bold and evil behaviour. Human control over the natural elements, which lines 334-64 describe in an overall positive and celebratory tone, is retrospectively overshadowed by the possibility that it is achieved in vain, and it really seems to mean very little if harmony in the polis is destroyed.27

The content of the second antistrophe also has a decisive effect on the meaning of the first two lines of the stasimon. These lines take their full meaning from what is said in 365-75, and therefore it is in 365-75 that the ambiguousness of man’s δεινότης – both his admirableness on the one hand and his frightfulness and selfdestructiveness on the other – can be fully perceived. As we have seen in the previous section, strictly from the point of view of its effectiveness in the natural realm, man’s intelligence is admirable, because it subdues the various natural powers. However, from the perspective of what gives man’s control over nature its ultimate justification, which is the preservation of the polis, the effectiveness of human intelligence in relation to nature is meaningful – and in this sense admirable – only if the polis is preserved, but it is meaningless – and accordingly frightening for its absurdity – if the polis is destroyed. By virtue of its key role in the first stasimon, the second antistrophe spreads the moral and religious ambiguousness expressed in it to the entire stasimon, so that even the first three stanzas, which celebrate man’s admirableness, become ambiguous as to the real value of human achievements in the natural domain. The very same intelligence that lines 334-64 feature as the great dominator of nature appears in 365-75 as something that may or may not be able to preserve the polis through proper moral and religious insight. Precisely because of its potential inability to preserve the polis, its conquests over nature become ambiguous. Whether it is admirable or frightening can only be determined by the events in the play.

• 4.    The human and the divine

I have argued in section 2 that what is at stake in the second antistrophe is man’s intellectual ability to grasp the moral-religious principles he needs to follow to keep the city away from internal conflict. It is important to consider how, according to the first stasimon, this moral-religious intelligence relates to the divine. The key passage to understanding this is 368-70, where the chorus say: “When [man] applies the laws of the earth and the justice the gods have sworn to uphold he is high in the city” (νόμους παρείρων χθονὸς | θεῶν τ’ ἔνορκον δίκαν | ὑψίπολις). The particle τ’ (“and”) closely unites the two objects of παρείρων, the version of the manuscripts rather weakly rendered by H. Lloyd-Jones as “applying” but which could be more accurately translated as “weaving together”.28 The chorus are therefore referring to an intrinsic connection between “the laws of the earth” (νόμους…χθονὸς) and

“the justice the gods have sworn to uphold” (θεῶν…ἔνορκον δίκαν), that is, to the fact that human laws and customs are divinely sanctioned.29 By thus weaving together

S. Benardete [1999] 48 with n. 54; M. R. Kitzinger [2008] 26-7 with n. 33; F. G. Giannacchini [2011] 44). For the translation of παρείρων as “weaving together”, see J. O’Brien (1975-6) 150; and R. F. Goheen (1951) 54, especially 141 n. 3: “This reading of the major manuscripts […] includes a forcing of the verb to govern two parallel accusatives and so mean ‘weave together’. […] The image of weaving seems an appropriate continuation of the preceding pictures of man’s clever handiwork, and the tension in the straining of the term is appropriate for the tenor of the passage”. If to R. F. Goheen’s arguments one adds C. Utzinger’s remarks – the version of the mss. is clearly transmitted, the verbal form occurs in Greek tragedy, and the meaning of the passage is understandable ([2003] 18) – one has good reasons to maintain παρείρων. R. Coleman (1972) 9 n. 1 is right in saying that no matter what the result of this discussion the meaning of the passage will not be seriously affected (M. Griffith [1999] 189, immediately after claiming that γεραίρων “is the most likely correction of the MS παρείρων”, adds the following comment: “The Elders assume that the [human] ‘laws of the land’ and the ‘justice of the gods’ go hand in hand”), but παρείρων reinforces the idea – also conveyed by the particle τ’ – that νόμους χθονός and θεῶν ἔνορκον δίκαν are inextricably connected.

• ²⁹ See C. P. Segal (1964) 48; H. Funke (1966) 44 with n. 65; D. A. Hester (1971) 27; J. O’Brien (1975-6) 145; T. C. W. Oudemans and A. P. M. H. Lardinois (1987) 128; C. Utzinger (2003) 36 (differently A. Brown [1987] 157; M. R. Kitzinger [2008] 27). Lines 368-9 can be understood as a hendiadys (G. Kaibel [1897] 27; E. v. N. Ditmars [1992] 55; M. J. Carvalho [2019] 183; other examples of hendiadys used in a moral context can be found in Hes. Op. 200 [Αἰδὼς καὶ Νέμεσις: “Shame and Retribution”] and Pl. Prt. 322c3 [αἰδῶ τε καὶ δίκην: “shame and justice”]). What is at stake is the idea that human laws and customs in the public and the private sphere derive their legitimacy from the oaths men take before the gods (W. Rösler [1983] 115; C. Utzinger [2003] 36). Νόμους χθονός can mean the law of the city, for instance Creon’s edict (C. Utzinger [2003] 35 with n. 104; in 187 and 1162 χθών designates the country or the land) and the custom of respecting the dead, for example by giving them burial as Antigone does to his brother (C. Utzinger [2003] 35 with n. 105; M. J. Carvalho [2019] 183 with n. 191; in 24, 65, and Soph. OC 1546 χθών refers to the earth as a place belonging to the gods of the underworld and where the dead are buried). Θεῶν ἔνορκον δίκαν is the “[j]ustice, which men swear to observe, taking oaths by the gods” (R. C. Jebb [1888] 77; see also M. Ostwald [1986] 157, 160; C. Utzinger [2019] 35 n. 109, 36 n. 112; in Soph. OT 647 ὅρκον θεῶν is an oath taken before the gods). If these oaths are violated, the gods may react with punishments (T. C. W. Oudemans and A. P. M. H. Lardinois [1987] 125 n. 10; C. Utzinger [2003] 36). The idea that human laws and customs have a divine origin is pervasive in ancient Greek texts: e.g. Hes. Th. 96, 901-3; Heraclitus B114 Diels-Kranz; Aesch. Pers. 762-4, Eum. 482-4, 681-4; Pind. Ol. 13.5-8; Pl. Leg. 624a1-6; Ps.-Pl. Minos 319c5-7; Ephorus FGrH 70F147 (H. Funke [1966] 44 with n. 65; J. O’Brien [1975-6] 145). I will frequently speak of human

• 5.    Antigone or Creon?

in the city the human and the divine, man is ὑψίπολις (“high in the city”). The question here is whether man is ὑψίπολις whenever the laws and customs of the city on the one hand and divine justice on the other are woven together. For this is not always the case: there are times when this weaving-together makes him an ἄπολις (“outcast from the city”). As I read them, lines 370-1 – “outcast from the city is he with whom the ignoble consorts because of his recklessness” (ἄπολις ὅτῳ τὸ μὴ καλὸν | ξύνεστι τόλμας χάριν) – point to an inadequate or incorrect understanding of how divine justice should be respected by human laws and customs. This interpretation seems appropriate in light of the events in the rest of the play. Antigone – through her decision to bury her brother Polynices – and Creon – with the proclamation of his edict forbidding the burial of Polynices as an enemy of the state – think of themselves as representatives of divinely sanctioned laws and customs (72-6, 89, 450-60, 519, 521, 542 [Antigone], 184-90, 280-9, 304-5, 450-5 [Creon]).30 The conflict staged in the play results from their reckless or daring action against each other (473-83, 914-15 [Antigone], 705-23, 735, 745 [Creon]),31 which ultimately leads to the downfall of Thebes and its royal family (593-7, 1192-243, 1257-69, 1271-6, 1282-92, 1348-53). This illustrates how the condition of the citiless may be a consequence of daringly seeking to weave together human νόμοι (“laws and customs”) and divine justice. In other words, the opposition between ὑψίπολις and ἄπολις seems to reflect a contrast between a moderate and an excessive way of connecting these two aspects involved in social and political rules of conduct. Such contrasting ways express, respectively, the success or failure of man’s intelligence in making this connection. The latter possibility is well illustrated in the course of the Antigone. It is the failure of the antagonists’ moral and religious insight that unleashes their conflict and causes the city’s downfall (561-2, 777-80, 921, 925-6 [Antigone], 450-5, 469-70, 615-25, 1261-9, 1259-60, 1347-53 [Creon]).32

The two opposing possibilities of relationship between the human and the divine just presented are the core around which the meaning of the second antistrophe and that of the first stasimon as a whole revolve. Not only the alternative between becoming ὑψίπολις or ἄπολις (370) but also the equivalent one between choosing the good or the bad (367) – to which one could add the opposition between the noble and “the ignoble” (370: τὸ μὴ καλὸν), as well as that between moderateness and immoderateness (371) – point to such contrasting possibilities of behaviour and the corresponding modes of human understanding of the divine. According to the first stasimon, therefore, man and his intelligence have an ambiguous character – that is, they are δεινότατα (the most admirable and, at the same time, the most fearsome beings) – because, first of all, they may or may not be able to grasp the proper way of connecting the human and the divine – namely, in the form of human laws and customs – and, secondly, because the ultimate meaning of their domination over nature depends on this ability.

It is now time to ask which of the two antagonists of the Antigone is being alluded to in the first stasimon. Answering this question is key to understanding how it is that the stasimon reflects the events in the play by announcing the conflict between Antigone and Creon as one between two improper modes of human relationship with the divine. Does the stasimon refer to any one of the antagonists in the play, or does it merely present an abstract picture – and ultimately a moral assessment – of man’s path towards civilization? Both things are true. On the one hand, in the same spirit as other choral odes in Greek tragedy, it offers us a more or less abstract view on its particular subject.33 On the other, it alludes to both antagonists by somehow predicting what happens later in the play between Antigone and Creon.34 It is the connection between its abstract and concrete dimensions that allows us to interpret the first stasimon as establishing an important criterion for evaluating the drama’s outcome.

The dialogue between Creon and the guard, which immediately precedes the first stasimon, suggests that the stasimon has Creon in view. In 323 the guard uses the term δεινόν to refer to the king of Thebes’ reaction to his announcement that Polynices has been buried: “It is dangerous for the believer to believe what is not true” (ἦ δεινόν, ᾧ δοκεῖ γε, καὶ ψευδῆ δοκεῖν). Creon believes that the guard has received money as a reward for collaborating in a political conspiracy against him (221-2, 289-314, 322, 326).35 Δεινόν has a clearly negative meaning in this passage as if foreshadowing some sort of calamity for Creon and the city of Thebes – the term is applied to the king later in the play (1096) – and it also reflects the guard’s fear of an impending violent reaction against him by Creon (327-31). This occurrence of the term strongly suggests that Creon is the δεινότατον depicted in the first stasi-mon. Furthermore, the markedly positive and celebratory tone of the description of man’s achievements in 334-64 is closely associated with Creon’s confidence and determination when proclaiming the edict forbidding the burial of Polynices (162210).36 In his speech Creon presents himself as a ruler who has no φόβος (“fear”) of “set[ting] his hand to the best counsels” (178-81). Such a fearlessness is characteristic of man’s δεινότης according to the first stasimon, which depicts him as most fearless in his confrontation with the natural elements.37 Creon’s self-image as a strong and courageous ruler also anticipates the description in the second antistrophe of the morally and religiously appropriate behaviour in the city. With his edict, apparently sanctioned by Zeus (156-7, 184), he intends to make the city great (191: τοιοῖσδ’ ἐγὼ νόμοισι τήνδ’ αὔξω πόλιν), which would identify him with the ὑψίπολις of line 370.38

Right after the first stasimon, there is a reference to Antigone which is key to understanding that what the chorus said in the stasimon may be applied to her too. Lines 376-7 express their astonishment and incredulity towards the δαιμόνιον τέρας (“godsent portent”) which suddenly appears before them.39 Due to its proximity to the stasimon, this phrase is clearly related to the content of the latter. Indeed, astonishment is what the chorus feel while singing of man as δεινότατον, in other words, as a being who is impressive and awe-inspiring in every one of the meanings involved in his ambiguousness.40 Not long before the stasimon, there is another passage important for assessing the allusions to Antigone in it, where the guard justifies his hesitation in telling Creon that his edict has been violated by saying: “serious matters make one very nervous” (243: τὰ δεινὰ γάρ τοι προστίθησ’ ὄκνον πολύν). “Serious matters” is H. Lloyd-Jones’ translation of τὰ δεινά, which I prefer to render as “frightening matters”. The phrase refers to the frightening and fearless act of burying Polynices, which was carried out by Antigone. Both before and after the stasimon, therefore, decisive indications occur which clearly point out that its content, especially that of the second antistrophe, may be applied to Antigone. Δαιμόνιον τέρας in 376 and τὰ δεινά in 243 are associated with the dangerous and frightening side of the δεινότατον as depicted in the stasimon, which means that the chorus may be pointing to Antigone when they sing of the reckless behaviour within the city. But Antigone seems to be alluded to in the framework of the first three stanzas as well, when the chorus refer to man’s inescapability from death, more precisely, from Hades, the god of the underworld (361-2). As is known from the rest of the play, Antigone is devoted to this god, and her devotion is one of the key motives for her deeds in the drama (71-2, 74-5, 519, 521, 542), the other main reason being her familial love for her brother (73-4, 523).41 By referring to death as inescapable, the chorus point ahead to Antigone’s fate. Even before she dies by suicide (1220-1, 1224), she somehow joins Hades in the underworld by being buried alive in a rocky cave beneath the earth (773-4, 885-6, 891-4, 1068-9, 1204-5).42

According to what we have just seen, the first stasimon alludes to each one of the antagonists, but at different moments and in distinct ways, which reflect the peculiarity of the values they represent and the actions they carry out in the drama. However, it is now important to return to the crucial passage in the second antistrophe and the stasimon as a whole (365-71), where both antagonists are simultaneously targeted and which presents an important key to interpreting the meaning of the whole play, by suggesting that it is the inappropriate realization of divine justice in human νόμοι (“laws and customs”) that leads to evil (367) and the downfall of the city (370-1).

These lines, which end the first stasimon, point to another important connection between the words of the chorus and the two antagonists. The key phrase is ἴσον φρονῶν, which means here “having the same way of thinking”, briefly, “like-mindedness”.52 The chorus, therefore, wishes to have “neither domestic nor political association”53 with someone who does not correctly understand how divine justice should be respected in human νόμοι, that is, with Antigone and Creon. In this sense, 372-5 is key to reinforcing the link between the second antistrophe and the first three stanzas and connecting the overall meaning of the stasimon with the rest of the drama. Φρονῶν is the present participle of φρονεῖν, a verb whose meaning relates these lines to the unifying topic of the entire stasimon, man’s intelligence or understanding. The φρονεῖν referred to in 373 is the same human power that is said in 332-64 to dominate nature and in 365-71 to be able to lead to evil or good and to glorify or destroy the city.54 In 373, however, human intelligence appears within the framework of the city, thus acquiring a preponderantly moral and religious meaning, and it represents only one side of the moral and religious ambiguousness that the stasimon attributes to man’s intelligence in the second antistrophe, namely its dangerous and frightening side. In this light, the φρονεῖν of 373 points to the possibility that man’s mode of existence as a whole is in vain, despite the success and admirableness of his conquests over nature. What the outcome of the conflict between Antigone and Creon shows is that – at least in the fictional world where the drama takes place, at least for those belonging to the house of the Labdacids – this is not merely a possibility but a reality.

• 6.    A concluding word

This last remark brings me to my final point, which has to do with the two different but complementary forms of connection between the first stasimon and the action of the Antigone . One of these forms is the one I have been considering, which concerns the fact that the stasimon is equivalent to a kind of microcosm that reflects in advance the fundamental events in the play and whose meaning should also be interpreted in the light of such events.⁵⁵ The other form concerns the fact that the stasimon allows the action to be framed in its general view of human existence.⁵⁶ According to the stasimon, man is faced with an alternative: to give meaning to his existence by glorifying the city or to make his existence meaningless by causing the downfall of the city. Within this framework, the Antigone exemplifies how man can make his existence meaningless, despite all his supremacy over nature. It shows how Thebes, through the actions of its royal family, is unable to give meaning to its existence as a community. Sophocles tells us that, if we consider the example of Theban society, man is δεινότατον in the sense of “the most dangerous and frightening being”, above all for himself and the survival of his community. However, he gives the example of a single human community and does not seem to propose a hopelessly negative or pessimistic view of man as such.⁵⁷ Although the outcome of the tragedy may represent a warning from Sophocles on the effective possibility that human existence will prove to be in vain, the stasimon points to the alternative between glorifying the city or destroying it as something undecided, which is at stake in the existence of any human community. The undecidedness of the alternative is what makes man an intrinsically ambiguous being. The stasimon therefore establishes a criterion by which the meaning of every human existence can be evaluated. This is perhaps one of the reasons why the stasimon has become such an admired and influential text in Western intellectual history.⁵⁸